Human Coalition | Player: Ian
He still remembers his last data run before they picked him up. It was a simple data pull, the online equivalent of a smash and grab. The Triads wanted something on the Trane Corporation, something they could use to change the minds of some of their top executives. Simple stuff for a hacker of Jiro’s talent.
The endless data towers, shimmering in ultraviolet black ice, surrounded by mobile intrusion guardians, surround him as he dives into the Trane systems, smashing through with his custom intrusion wetware. The deck in his hands, jacked into the port at the base of his skull, is slick with sweat as he controls his movements inside the Datasphere. Moments away from retrieval, the jack is yanked from his head and he comes screaming back to reality. When he opens his eyes, a Bao officer is standing over him. Jiro can’t see his face, but he can almost feel the grin through the mask. Two other Bao are trashing his apartment, taking anything technical and tossing it into a large black bag. They rough him up, but he figures they’ve been told he’s no good to anyone if they damage him.
He only finds out later that the Celestial Guard DataSphere division has been watching him for some time, stalking him online with line tracers and packet hounds. The judge gives him two choices - Join the Celestial Guard, or labor camp. It’s not really a decision.
Three Years Later
The dropship rumbles as it cuts through the rough atmosphere of the planet. Jiro looks around at the other troops on the ship. His vision is overlaid with tactical data, comm streams, and weapon readiness levels. The direct link to the Rui Shi in the corner blinks reassuringly to him in the bottom right corner of his vision.
Lt. Kanagawa is in the seat closest to the pilots. A good tactician and an strong leader, Jiro has served Lt. Kanagawa in over two years of combat. Asura, the Tiger Soldier, sits across from him. He is checking his combi rifle, and probably doing the same thing Jiro is doing - checking comms, hacking gear, and armour status. Jiro bursts texts him, just to make sure it’s working, and he sees the Tiger swing his helmet over and nod back. Good.
Beside Jiro, almost taking up two seats, is the Yan Huo, Master Sergeant Kenji Akuma. Jiro has only seen a Yan Huo in action once before, and it was terrifying to behold the damage done by the HMC that is stored in the rack at the back of the ship. Jiro knows that he must protect Kenji from hacking, as much as Kenji can protect him from being shot. They must learn to work as a team.
The others, Kiyoshi the Aragato rider, Ren the Guilang, and even the four Monks in the back of the ship, moving through martial art Katas even in the drop seats, seem confident. Jiro knows he is surrounded by good soldiers.
This mission is different. They are dropping to combat the insidious Combined Army, a race of aliens that are trying to destroy all mankind. Jiro has done hacking simulations on the CA, and they’re gear is so different, R&D had to rebuild the hacking devices just to communicate with the alien tech.
Humankind must band together, or perish. The armies of man must not be like an open hand, where the Combined can break off one finger at a time. They must become like a fist, with a common purpose and direction, if they are to win against the Aliens.
Human Coalition | Player: Tom
"Welcome to The Force rookie'" barked Sgt. Nathan Winters. "Stow your gear over there and get some shuteye before we drop, because once we do we're not stopping until the jobs done, and chances are you won't be making it back anyway"
"No problemo bossman, Johnny Silvini's the name and suicide missions are the game! Lets do this!"
"Is anybody else hungry?"
Human Coalition | Player: Dan
The man was well accustomed to wearing strange clothes, but nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of the tight, high collar of an 0-12 logistics and supply officer. It felt as though he was being choked slowly by an elderly woman or a toddler. It did help him achieve a certain awkward bird-like quality that he associated with bean counters and beaurocrats though, and that would make things easier. The rest of the uniform was much in the same style as the collar, which was to say it was tight, unyielding, and utterly without decoration or flare - which the man thought was a good model for how most 0-12 logistics officers behaved. The only ornamentation present was a holotag, pinned high up on the left breast. It said 'Montoya' in the small, efficient typeface favoured by 0-12.
While wearing it, the man would look the part to any casual (and most keen) observers, and that was a good thing. It was a good thing because, in the man's extensive eperience, military personnel were harder to fool than your everyday civillian. A legitimate looking uniform and the hesitant, bird-like personality stuffed into it would go a long way to help get him onboard the ship and safely to the operations zone. Once he was there, the alias would cease to be important. Now all he had to do was find the embarcation point.
A porter had arrived at his rooms earlier that same morning and picked up his larger bags, including the long and deep black case with the heavy duty locks on it. With barely a raised eyebrow the porter had loaded the skiff and assured the man that his bags would be waiting for him when he found his cabin. It had been hard to allow the case to leave his direct supervision, but logistics men trusted in the way things were done. If one were to make a large fuss over standard protocol it might mean talking, and rumors, and other things that were bad for business. So he had gritted his teeth and nodded as the large case was wheeled out of his presence, and had been trying to keep the thought clear of his mind all morning. Now he was shouldering his way through the crowds on the way to the departures spaceport, trying not to get dirty. Logistics men didn't often get dirty.
The man had left himself extra time to find the port, believing that someone like 'Montoya' was probably never late for anything. Despite this, the crowds were threatening to delay his arrival at the embarcation ramps, and that might breed more idle chatter. He was already a last minute addition to the passenger manifest (compliments of high command pulling some clever strings), so he didn't need to draw anymore attention to himself. Just get yourself there the Major had said, and pray it's not already too late... Usually such foreboding language would have sounded tacky coming from such a stern man, but something about the gravity in his voice made his fear contagious. Something big was happening out there on the frontier, and there had been all those rumors of E.I. activity out that way...
What the hell am I walking into? the man thought to himself as he rounded another corner and was once more disappointed to not see the departures port. He flipped up the cover on his wrist PDA and checked the GPS readout again. Damn, he thought, realizing that he had missed a turn some few hundred yards back. The port was just on the other side of the buildings to his right, and he needed to find a way through quickly if he wanted to make the early appearance that he felt was expected of him. Then he spotted the alley.
It was everything you would expect: dark, sinister, foreboding, and exactly what he needed to get to the next block over quickly. It wasn't the prospect of danger in the shadows that worried him; it was the prospect of that danger messing up his uniform. This was exactly what the man didn't need today. Well, you gotta do what you gotta do... he thought, then started cutting to his right through the crowds towards the dark alley mouth. He was there in a few seconds, peering down through it and just barely able to see the light of the opposite block. There was no one in it, and he hadn't really expected to see anyone. Not until at least half way through anyway.
The man started into the alley, trying not to look around but focusing on his peripheral vision all the same. The first man stepped out from behind a large stack of packing crates when he was about one third of the way down. He had a charming smile on his face and was flipping a coin up and down in the air, as if he had no real concerns at present other that this fine June day. The man could hear another presence closing on him from behind, and suspected there would be a third somewhere. A failsafe. Without breaking his stride he kept on towards the first thug, smiling as awkwardly as he could manage to appear. He lifted one hand as if to get the thug's attention, and when the hapless goons eyes lit up in anticipation of the nice fat wallet walking into his greasy fingers, the man struck. His hand had already been on the way up, but to the thug it had been the useless hand of a frail and scared clark, about to be 'sorted out' by a few toughs for walking down the wrong alley. By the time it had become a flat, muscular blade of tendon and bone it was already too late for the thug to recover, and the jab took him in the larynx hard enough to drop him to his knees. The next blow took him under the chin, and then there was just black and cold, and the clammy concrete on his cheek.
The man turned quickly, flexing the fingers of his right hand, withdrawing a small black rod from his attache case with his left. "Gentlemen," he said in a level tone of voice, surveying the two men that had fanned out as far as the alley would allow to his right and left. "I'll walk away if you will...but you have to leave first," he said, glancing from face to face. He punctuated the last word by flicking open the extendable baton he had concealed in his case. The two men didn't react, maintaining their slow attempt to encircle him. They seemed unphased by the loss of their comrade in arms to such an innocent looking civillian. Then we do it the hard way...he thought, widening his stance a little.
~ ~ ~
The man arrived at the embarcation ramp a few moments later, having caught his breath and tidied up his clothes as best he could. He made sure to take the ramp at a slow and stately walk, conveying to all who would watch that he had no rush, and that the world would reshape itself around his needs. He considered this to be the general disposition of most beaurocratic officers, and so felt it was a safe default. The porter at the top of the ramp gave him a practised winning smile and stepped forward, hand extended to receive his papers.
The porter wore a well tailored suit of navy blue with subtle gold trim and a polished brass name plate with 'Rikesh' written on it. He wore a neat black silk turban on his head, and a gold pin adorned the front; crossed knives over another symbol. "Good afternoon sir," he said in a thick punjab accent, "and welcome to the good ship Komagata Maru, Mr. Montoya." The porter beamed at him and handed his documents back, having seen what he needed to in them. "Your cabin is number 204, and you'll take this lift down two levels and then turn to your right upon exiting. It has a blast screen, a full logistics suite and a jacuzzi, which I might personally recommend. Wonderful for reliveing stress, sir."
The smile was contagious and the man let it spread over his face. "That's an interesting name, the Komagata Maru. I might have expected that name in a Yu-Jing capitol ship, but an Acontecimento line ship?" He raised one eyebrow conspiratorially, prompting a hearty laugh from the porter. The man took him by the shoulder and led him into the freight lift, still chuckling amiably.
"It is a traditional Sikh name, my friend," he said as he pushed a few buttons and then closed a panel, continuing to say, "this is the flag ship of the Akalis, Mr. Montoya. Have you heard of them?" His face was innocent but there was something playful in his tone, and the man suspected that Rikesh the porter might be more than he appeared at first glance. After a moment of silence Rikesh stepped back and out of the lift, closing the doors for the man. "You will likely meet them tomorrow at the briefing my friend. Until then you have only to call me should you need anything." He gave a professional little half bow and then paced back over to his station at the top of the ramp.
"Thank you," the man said as the lift began to descend towards the 2nd deck. He let out a long breath and leaned back against the wall, wincing. The man slid a hand into his frock coat and gritted his teeth, thinking to himself that was a close one, as he withdrew it. The hand was slick with his blood. The one with the knife had been fast. Very fast. The man needed his room, his medkit, and a few hours rest. Phase one was complete.
The encrypted message had been brief, and decidedly short on information:
MEYERS, INDIGO 219
REPORT TO PORT 84, [redacted], SLIP 5B 'KOMAGATA MARU'
BERTH PROVIDED, AGENT SUPPLIES EQUIPMENT
ALIAS AND DOCUMENTATION WILL ARRIVE 22:00
EMBARK AND AWAIT FURTHER ORDERS
Agent Meyers found his room right where Rikesh the porter had told him it would be. His bags and long deep black case were there waiting for him. He opened a smaller bag and withdrew a sterile metal case, which he opened and began to lay out on his desk. Several decks above Rikesh chuckled to himself, wondering why an 0-12 logistics officer should ever find another mans blood on his expensive synthetic shoes.
Human Coalition | Player: Brad
Indigo Brother Rodrick exited the monastery just as mass and prayers were finishing. He began to walk towards the courtyard to instruct the weapons training for the newly initiated Order Sergeants. Rodrick was one himself until not so long ago when he was selected for the indigo spec ops program after a series impressive displays in both combat and covert operations. He had an affinity for engineering as well as minor experience with hacking protocols which made him a prime candidate for the spec ops program. He had been part of the military orders since he was orphaned during the First NeoColonial War. Father-Knight Gabrielle of the Teutonic knight order took him in and offered Rodrick a chance at a new life.
Just as Rodrick entered the courtyard, he received an emergency transmission from Pan-O high command. A few leagues north of their monastery a Pan-O research facility was currently under attack by an unidentified Alien enemy, and they were requesting all available units to come to the aid of the facilities forces. The report cut out and no additional details were given. To clean and efficient to be Morats, the facility would have seen them coming, and there have not been any Tohaa sightings in there area for months thought Rodrick. No, it must be Shavasti. They were likely behind the attack. Impersonating their way into the facility to catch the defenders off guard. Which means that by the time forces arrive it will be to late. "Filthy hell spawn, where is the honor in striking from the shadows?" muttered Rodrick.
Rodrick Said a quick prayer and was off to assemble a team to investigate the carnage that would be awaiting them, and to discover the target of the attack. He would have to instruct the initiates another day...
Human Coalition | Player: Cam
"Please come in."
Father Superior Pyotr Gundyaev of the Knights Hospitallers entered the small, spartan cubicle, his gentle gaze coming to rest on an agitated woman in the late years of her youth, hurriedly emptying her small bureau into a rucksack. Silence pervaded the chamber for several moments.
"I suppose you've come to ask me to reconsider," said the sister.
"Yes I have Katherine," replied Father Pyotr. "You are, of course, free to leave should you so desire. I will not remind you of your vows, nor will I burden you with a mantle of guilt that would serve no purpose. I do however feel you're making a mistake that will come to haunt you in time. You came to us raw and wounded, and while you've become so strong in many ways, I fear the deepest wounds have yet to heal."
The woman sat down on the edge of her bed, with her hands on her knees and her gaze directed at the floor. "Father, you've been exceedingly kind to me. The training I've undertaken here gave me a purpose when I thought I had lost that forever. I just can't seem to shake the feeling of being completely isolated despite being a part of something bigger than myself. You know what happened during my time as a fleet doctor. I gave them everything I had. I was flawless and innovative. I saved so many lives and in the end, it all meant nothing. They forced me out and cast me adrift."
Father Pytor smiled, "I remember Katherine. I remember telling you then that sometimes it's the very thing that makes you great that brings you heartbreak. You were also replacing a beloved crewmember who was merely indisposed. It was reasonable to assume that they would want Dr. McFadden back as soon as possible."
Katherine sighed defeatedly, "Of course, I always knew that. I rationalized it by convincing myself that sometimes people need to make someone new the enemy as a way of reinforcing their waning feelings for an absent friend. It went beyond that though, Father. They really didn't like me. And I just don't understand why."
"Perhaps you'd like some insight?" replied the Father, producing a dataslate from a satchel at his hip. He raised a reassuring hand as Katherine's mouth fell open in shock. "Of course we interviewed the crew before accepting you as a supplicant. Our order is ancient and esteemed, with delicate political ties that require the utmost tact in keeping strong. We'd be remiss if we didn't do a little digging, wouldn't we?" he said with a wink. "Dr. Pulaski is feverishly intense. Whilst her work is brilliant, her bedisde manner can be occasionally dehumanizing and at best brusque and chilly. She's a maverick who always believes she's right, and while her track record tends to support that belief, it rubs people the wrong way. Here's a gem, 'I miss Dr. McFadden. Her limpid eyes and wavy red hair always made me feel like everything was going to be alright."
Katherine snorted, "Yes, and when people died, who could stay mad at that face? Honestly I expected more, but that's humanity for you, isn't it? Here in Pan-O we're so sated and devoted to pleasure and spoiled by choice, if something rubs you the wrong way, what's to stop you from discarding it? And so what if it's a highly trained, gifted doctor who has devoted her life to those around her and never asked for anything except the respect due anyone with her track record? If someone dies, there's always a replacement, and if you die, your cube will bring you back!" She stood up and walked over to her bureau, fists clenched. "And that, Father, is why I'm leaving the Order. I feel so apart from humanity now. I feel I've devoted my life to a machine that doesn't care if I excel or fail or just become complacent. There are always enough parts to keep it churning inexorably forward."
Father Pyotr nodded, "There is truth in that. For a society that claims to respect the Lord so ardently, Pan Oceania often seems more intent on embracing the bestial than the celestial. That was cute, wasn't it! But I go on. Katherine, your time here has been spent training you to become a warrior, and my God you've become an excellent one. We were hesitant to admit a woman of your age, but you've excelled. In your heart of hearts though, you know you're a healer. Even if you're still at odds with his creation, you love and serve the Lord our Father, and you would be bitterly dissatisfied if you walled yourself off and let your talents go to waste. And that leads me to the other reason why I've come to you today. Your assertion that the great machine will always keep lurching forward? We have cause to believe that might be in question."
Katherine turned to the Father, her face etched with concern. "We have reason to believe that the Combined Army has returned to Paradiso, with greater numbers and more hostile races than during the last incursion. If they establish a bridgehead, our civilization will be in extreme peril. We're spread too thin, our way of life too dependent on supply chains, and for all our strength, we don't have the ability to adequately defend every vital asset. The High Command has ordered a massive response, including large contingents from all military orders. They have also expressed the need for special operatives to take on missions of extreme importance and peril. We feel that you are exactly what the High Command is looking for."
"Father, I, I truly don't know what to say. To go from resigning my commission to this, it's overwhelming. Part of me almost wonders if we deserve this. A small part even wants them to succeed."
Father Pyotr placed his hands on Katherine's shoulders. "You have every reason to be angry Katherine, but when casualty reports begin streaming in, you'll wish you were there. When Paradiso burns, you'll hate yourself for not being on the front lines, bringing your unique skills to bear. Katherine, I'd normally lecture that rage will only poison you, but today I want you to redirect it. Focus your wrath on these invaders who seek to undo all you've worked for. Bring your hate to bear on these abominations who will force your fellow man to need you, rather than want you. You are a healer, Katherine Pulaski, but today, I and all of humanity need you to be an instrument of God's divine justice!"
Katherine turned away coyly, "It's the Combined Army. Will there be Sogarats?"
Father Pyotr smiled, "There will indeed, my child."
"Then I really have no choice, do I Father? Let the High Command know I am honored, and I will gladly undertake whatever they need from me. This is one time when being forever apart won't feel so lonely."
"Deus vult, my child. May God have mercy on those who get in your way."
Combined Army | Player: Ben
“The best thing about Humanity is it’s easy to kill” - The Mistress of Lies before the bombing of Ravensbrucke.
El-Shiva-ra stood on the bridge of her Shavasti Ghost micro ship. It easily slid through the DayBreak blockade surrounding Paradiso. After years of feints and misdirection’s the Shavasti agent would take a direct role in the horrors to come. Humanity had established a strong space presence of Class Titan destroyers around the worm hole being used by the Combined Army to enter the Human sphere. Foolishly humans thought this would work.
The blockade might have succeeded had it not been for the years of preparation done by the Shavasti leading up to the first official contact between the Combined Army and Humanity. Infiltration, subterfuge and impersonation had left the military might of Humanity disoriented and weak from infighting. Even now key personal were replaced by Speculo Killers who created these ‘gaps’ in the blockade. Everyday more and more of the forces of the Evolved Intelligence made it deep into humanities lines...even to earth.
El-Shiva-ra was a Croax Special Operative without peer. Her skill at bio-engineering had been the ultimate trick on 0-12. Knowing that the devious humans would attempt to detect impersonating Shavasti through whatever means necessary, El-Shiva-ra had shown them how.
She had created the Biometric Identity controls now fully established in all of Paradiso’s relevant facilities and in the main power centres of the Sphere. Through her agents it had been distributed. The great part of the ruse had been when a few of the Speculo Killers in key positions had volunteered to be caught by the BIC program. This had firmly established it as a success and all the major corporate nations of the Sphere immediately implemented it. It just didn’t really work.
El-Shiva-ra had been reclassified as the ‘Mistress of Lies’ and was now ready to bring the Human Sphere to it’s knees one system at a time. Starting with Paradiso...
Combined Army | Player: Derrick
Shivra Cahst couldn’t believe her eyes, staring in the monitor she was watching years of work begin to unravel. Years of behind the scenes Shavestii infiltration, misdirection, murder and other plans slowly unravelling. This summit, she was sure, was a political ploy. That the various players would say they tried but look at how unreasonable they were, we can’t work with these people. They can’t be trusted. This race of individuals so caught up in there what is in it for me belief was actually starting to to to what? Work together. Granted it wasn’t looking like they were going to run any joint operations soon but they were starting to looking at the EI and not each other.
This summit was not going as planned... the timeline would have to be pushed up.
Combined Army | Player: Kris
The great adventures of our favourite human scum killer….Gungo Boom!!
Large calibre gun fire erupted into the night. Tracer rounds cut through the darkness and through the jungle brush as if it wasn’t even there. Sergeant Kobo Gran hunkered down behind a fallen tree. Around him were his squad of Vanguard Infantry. They’d been advancing towards the Ariadne base through the darkness. He knew other squads of infantry were moving out and surrounding the base. They were told the automated sentry guns would have been silenced before their advance. High Command had seen fit to send in a special operative. “Where is that damn Treitak? He should have nullified those guns by now.” He heard a grunt from beside him. Gurda, his second in command, just shrugged. “Who knows? Sometimes I think those special operatives are no more reliable than a monkey.” Kobo sighed, “We need to take this base. The human scum keep using it as a rally point. If we take it their operations in this sector will be diminished but I don’t want to throw away our lives needlessly. Plus we need this base to start staging our own operations.” In the distance, all of a sudden, they could hear a loud shriek followed by a bright flash of light, then a sonic boom that sent shockwaves into the jungle. Brush, trees and Morats went tumbling backwards.
Sergeant Kobo picked himself up out of a muddy puddle and brushed the leaves off his visor. “Gurda! What in the name of Rokto just happened? Squad sound off!” Gurda stood up and looked around bewildered. The sentry guns of the base had stopped firing. All of the squad sounded off and no one was injured. A pungent smoke drifted through jungle, acrid and oily smelling. Kobo ordered his squad to advance to the tree line. “Maybe the Treitak sabotaged the guns after all.” Gurda said. Kobo nodded. As they advanced to the tree line they could see the other squads emerging from the jungle around the base. Low fires were scattered throughout the base. It illuminated most of the base…or what was left of it. The base, and its human defenders were nothing but twisted metal and body parts. Kobo ground his teeth together. “That shasdang Treitak!! He was supposed to take out the goram guns not the WHOLE base!”
Hidden along another part of the treeline Treitak Gungo Boom grinned. He could see Kobo ranting to poor Gurda and his other squad mates. It was fairly easy to infiltrate the base and sabotage the guns. He had to kill almost a quarter of the defenders to do it but those talking monkeys called humans didn’t pose that much of a threat. The real fun was when Gungo found the ammo dump and the gas lines running around the base. That was too much to pass up! Besides, the look on Kobo’s face when he had dirt and leaves in his hair made it all worthwhile. Gungo tilted his cap to a jaunty angle and casually sauntered back into the jungle. Oh yes, there was going to be so much more fun in the days to come…
Combined Army | Player: Kyle
++ Planet [PARADISO] ... Mission Log [Eden’s Port Massacre]... Time [0345]... Location [Eden’s Port Orbital Station, 5km East of Combined Army Offensive Line]... Status [Lost, No Survivors] ++
“Eden’s Port, it would be considered one of the most beautiful places this side of paradise, were it not the last stop before the gates of Hell – Sgt. Okama, Spaceport Security”
“Make way! Coming through! Prepare to receive incoming Casualties. We have reports of wounded patrolmen en route and I want the ER prepped and ready for them. Let s get to work people” Dr. Kabutai had seen his fair share of what the CA forces could do to human beings on the battlefield, but they had never reached this far past the main battle line before.
The Orbital station was located on a ridge overlooking the Bay of Tears in the distance, flanked by an impenetrable rock faces. It was a perfect location to stage reinforcements from the fleet down to the main offensive. For the last 3 weeks the CA had been trying to establish a beachhead, but Eden’s Port was the reason they had not succeeded. The ability to drop fresh reinforcements into the fray at a moment’s notice was the primary reason the Morat Aggression Forces had not been able to get a foothold. Adding more meat to the grinder it seems, is still a valid tactic.
The doors to the ER swung open as 4 casualties were brought in. Young men, bloody and barely breathing, lay on each stretcher. The EMTs got each of them onto a table, and reported their vitals. Dr. Kabutai moved to the first patient and began his diagnostic. Stripping the man’s uniform, the auto-med table began running a series of imaging scans. Then it happened. As the scanner displayed the internal injuries of the men, Dr. Kabutai identified what looked to be electronic devices surgically implanted into their chest and abdominal cavities. The look of horror on the chief surgeons face was all the medical team saw before the explosion obliterated the Medical Centre, disabling the adjacent Orbital Defence Grid Power Station.
“Kornak Sir; Anyat and I have succeeded, the defence grid lies dormant and the station is in disarray. We move on your orders. You may initiate Planetfall and begin the Assault - Treitak Goran out”.